


Fallout Drabbles: A Collection from Tumblr

by saibugs



Category: Fallout 4, Fallout 76, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Multi, a compilation of works, see more at saibugs on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-04 03:17:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 51
Words: 13,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17890499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saibugs/pseuds/saibugs
Summary: A collection of drabbles from my Tumblr account, saibugs.tumblr.com. Featuring OCs, the characters we all know and love, angst, fun times, and even some... NSFW.





	1. The Bad Ending

Sole hadn’t seen MacCready for days since they’d gotten the letter. But a couple of questions and a few days of walking later, they stepped into Goodneighbour’s Third Rail and made their way down to the VIP room in the back.

MacCready was sitting there, downing a drink. How many had he had already? Sole didn’t know, but they could see he was absolutely plastered and needed to stop. Striding over they snatched the glass from his hand and took it instead. “RJ, enough.”

“It’ll ne'er be enough,” MacCready slurred in reply, picking up a nearby bottle of bourbon. In the red light it was difficult to see the streaks on the mercenary’s face but Sole could see them, and they wiped his cheek with their thumb, brows furrowing.

“Is this about the letter?” they asked, voice soft.

MacCready stiffened upon the letter’s mention. He had been the only one to read it, Sole had just given it to him upon Daisy’s request. But he managed a small nod, and looked down, hand clenching. There were no words spoken, not for several minutes, but when MacCready finally managed something his voice was choked, strained, and miserable. “He’s… d…dead.”

“I’m s…sorry?” Sole’s heart sank into their toes. They knew without asking. “O…Oh g…god.”

“Duncan’s DEAD.” MacCready took a deep breath, trying to hide the quaking in his voice. “My little boy is with his mommy…” Tears dripped down his cheeks and he bowed his head. Sole could only set their hand on his shoulder, but they knew it would likely not help. The pain of losing a child was like no other pain in the world. “I… I g…give up.”

“You can’t,” Sole tried. “RJ, please, you can’t give up now.”

“How can I keep going, knowing Duncan’s gone?!” he exploded, chest heaving. “How?!”

“Because you have to live for him,” they said, voice gentle, as they took his hands in their own. MacCready felt the small wooden soldier in their right hand, pressing against his own. “And I know, oh god I know how hard that is. You just want to give up and hide away in a dark place. You want to die without killing yourself, just keep getting more and more reckless with grief, and…” They shook her head. “The point is… no matter how hard it is, you can’t give up. Live for your little boy. He’ll always be with you, in spirit. And you have me, too. I’ll always be there for you.”

They weren’t expecting MacCready to throw himself into their arms, but they held him tight and close as he bawled. They ignored the gazes of curious patrons, stroking his back, leaning their head on his as he buried his face in their neck. And they wondered what sort of sick, twisted god had thought to take a son from his father, despite everything they’d done.


	2. A Talk

The pair sat together on old patio chairs, clinking their beers together and looking out over the starlit city. In the distance, Diamond City glowed, and even further the smog from the Glowing Sea rose high into the sky.

MacCready sighed as he leaned back, resting his feet on an old milk crate. “Hey, Cris.”

She looked over at him, blinking, tilting her head to the side. “Yes, sweetie?” she asked.

He watched her out of her periphery. “So… look, I know… I know we want to… make this work… and I know we… we… still…”

“Are you worried that our love for our deceased partners will get in the way?” Cristina asked, her voice kind and soft. She reached over and set a hand on MacCready’s shoulder; he reached up and rested his own over it, giving a nod. She could understand why he felt that way, of course. “I don’t think it will, honey.”

“I… I just miss Lucy…”

“And I miss Nate. Neither of them deserved the fates they received, and they died young. Every day, I think about him. And I’m sure you think about Lucy every day. But… But we’re young too. And it is possible to love more than one person with every fibre of your being.” She removed her hand from MacCready’s shoulder, set her beer down, then took both his hands. “Robert.”

“Yes?” His voice was hoarse as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“When I first met you, I just needed hired help, to keep me company on the long roads and fight by my side. I was scared, a few months out of the Vault, and just… you were easy to recruit. Pay you a couple of hundred caps and boom, you were loyal to me.”

He laughed. “Yeah, guess that’s me, huh?”

She chuckled. “But… the more I travelled with you, the more I grew to trust you. I found myself beginning to care for you more than an employer, but as a friend… and then, later on, after you told me a bit more about yourself and your little boy… I developed feelings for you. Something deeper than friends, deeper than best friends. Something I’d felt with my husband. Did I feel it was wrong? Yes. But I also knew some people find another person to love when they lose their first significant other.” She paused, considered her words, then continued. “When I… I heard that Lucy had passed… I suppressed my own feelings for you, even as they grew, even as they hurt.”

His eyes widened. But he didn’t get the chance to speak.

Cristina sniffled. “Robert… I knew I was in love with you. I didn’t know how to tell you, until…” She giggled, although it was sad. “Until that day we got stuck in Longneck Lukowski’s. Remember that? You were angry we’d been fooled by that man.”

“I remember,” he chuckled. “I could see something in your eyes as we talked, and… it helped me to realise that… maybe I didn’t need to suppress my own feelings for you.” He pulled a hand free from hers and touched her cheek. “But… I still worry anyway…”

“I know,” she whispered. “And I do love you. I do. I’ll never stop loving Nate, and likely you’ll never stop loving Lucy. But I can love you, and still love him. He’s my past, you’re my future… and you’re both as important to me as the other.”

MacCready’s bottom lip trembled, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. She hugged him right back, pressing her face into his neck, just holding him.

They both pulled away after several minutes, and Cristina kissed MacCready’s nose. “I love you.”

“Love you too. I’m… glad we both talked about this.”

“I am too. Now let’s get some sleep.”


	3. I'm Going To Teach You How To Dance, Come Here

Summer nights had always been a favourite of Cristina’s. As she sat on the old and admittedly slightly ratty couch, her thoughts trailed back to the summer night of her wedding. The fairy lights in the trees, the soft chirping of crickets, the breeze… the dancing.

She pursed her lips. Her husband was dead now, so she couldn’t exactly replicate it, but…

MacCready, her partner, sat beside her and stirred her from her memory. He smiled and held out a cup of tea, which she took gratefully. But she didn’t drink it, instead sitting it on the coffee table and saying, “I’m going to teach you how to dance.”

“Eh?” He blinked several times. “Dance?”

“Yes. Dance.” She grinned and pushed herself to her feet, unclipping her Pip-Boy after tuning it to the radio station. There was a smooth jazz song playing, perfect. “Come here.”

He watched her, apprehension clear in his eyes; he’d never danced before in his life. But he loved Cris and he could see that this would make her happy, so with a huff he stood and came over to her. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s… dance.”

Her smile widened, and she rested one hand on his shoulder, the other on his hip. He followed her instructions, and matched her step for step, picking it up surprisingly quickly. And as they danced Cristina fell more and more in love with her partner, surprised it was even possible too.

Once the song closed, the pair stayed holding each other. MacCready blinked and tilted his head as tears pricked the corners of Cristina’s eyes, and he wondered what was upsetting her. “You alright…?”

“Yes, fine,” she assured, pulling him into an embrace with a sniffle. “I’m happy.”

He beamed, wrapping his arms around her. “Good.”


	4. Loss

It was cold. So, so cold. But Cristina didn’t know if that was just how she felt - cold, withdrawn, isolated - or the temperature. She had lost track of the minutes, of the hours, the days. She barely perceived the presence of her friends, had stopped eating regularly, and only took the occasional sip from her bottle of water.

The chair beside the bed had become her post. Laying in the bed was the unconscious form of her partner, still comatose despite the weeks it had been. Her mind flashed back to the incident: a contract had been taken, the pair had been travelling, the bullets had pierced his back and neck. Her own screams had filled her ears, muting the gunfire as she retaliated. He’d collapsed, blood pooling underneath him, and–

She squeezed her eyes shut.  _Don’t think about it_ , she told herself. If she thought of it again she would cry and she’d done so much crying. But it was hard not to think of it, and not even for herself. MacCready was neither recovering nor deteriorating and any change was becoming feared. But Cristina was thinking more about MacCready’s little boy, back at their homestead, unaware his father was struggling to cling to the threads of life.

Cristina looked at the machines she’d salvaged from Medford. They were only keeping him in limbo. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to turn them off even though she was worried she was only preventing the inevitable, or keeping him from being free of the cage of pain. She reached out and stroked MacCready’s cheek with the backs of her fingers, trembling, praying. She was not a Godly woman by any means, but today, today she made an exception.

“Whoever’s listening… whether it be Atom, God, or… someone…” She swallowed as the tears trickled down her cheeks. “Please… don’t let Robert die. Please… I beg you… Duncan needs him…”

Only silence answered her, and she slumped, beginning to sob.


	5. I'm Fine

“I’m  _fine_.”

MacCready shook his head as he fluffed her pillow up, making sure it was in  _just_  the right position for her to be comfortable as they settled down for the night. Cristina watched him, unable to stop the smile on her face. She wasn’t annoyed by the fussing, no; she found it adorable. She was, however, worried about him because he was stressing over the littlest thing.

“Is that okay?” MacCready asked as he crouched next to her. “Do you need anything else? Snacks? Drinks?”

“I’m  _fine_ ,” she repeated, reaching over and touching his cheek. “You, Robert, need to chill. I’ve done this before.”

“I only want the best for you and little Squish!” That was the name he was calling the infant, for neither knew the gender. Neither wanted to until the birth. “And pregnancy has to be hard, I mean you’re carrying a baby in you for nine months, and I see how sore you are sometimes…!”

She smiled at him, then pulled him down and kissed him gently. “I appreciate the concern, sweetheart. But please… sit down and just relax, okay?”

He kissed her back, before joining her on the couch, resting his head on her belly.


	6. Pregnancy

MacCready had been reading a comic. Had been: he was no longer. He held it between his fingers, eyes wide as he stared up at his girlfriend. She was standing before him, cheeks pink, a smile on her face.

“Are… are you for real?” He set the comic book on the coffee table and stood. She bobbed her head, smile widening, and he rushed to her side. “Holy… you’re… pregnant?!”

“Yes, Robert,” she laughed. “I’m pregnant.”

Delight shone in his eyes as he took her hands in his. “We’re going to be parents!”

She grinned, and kissed his cheek happily. “Yes, we are…! Shaun and Duncan are going to have a baby sibling…!”


	7. Hate Me All You Want. I Know I'm Right.

“He’s my son!” Cristina snapped, clenching her hands. “I don’t care if he’s the leader of the Institute… I still  _need_  to talk to him one last time!”

“Seriously?! After everything?!” MacCready snarled. “Are you really going to be so damn stubborn even after everything he’s goddamn done?!” He jabbed her in the chest with a bony finger. “You’re NOTHING to him, Cristina, and even though you know that…” He trailed off, pulling his hand away, and stared at her for the longest time before hissing, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

She shook with rage at his accusatory tone. “You know what, Robert?” she spat, baring her teeth. “I fucking HATE you. I hate you! I wish I’d never loved you, because you’re an asshole! You can go rot in Hell for all I care!” She slammed something down at his feet, and stormed off.

“Hate me all you want! I know I’m right!” MacCready yelled after her, but she ignored him, turning her back on the man she loved.

It was something she would come to regret.


	8. I Want To Make You Cum All Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

The two were staying in Home Base for the night. It was quiet enough that they could relax from being on the job, chill for the night. They were both sitting on the couch. Cristina was reading an old book that had somehow withstood the ravages of 210 years ago, while MacCready was entertaining himself reading a couple of the Grognaks Cris had collected over her adventures.

She peered at him out of the corner of her eye and bit her lip. After snapping it shut, she set her book down and pinched Mac’s current read. He blinked and looked at her just as she pushed her way between his legs and hovered over him, her arms beside his head. He stared up at her in his cute  _I’m not quite sure what is happening way_ , before he smiled and asked, “Can I help you, sweetheart?”

“You can, actually.” Her voice was a little more hoarse than she intended, and she bat her eyelashes at him. “I…”

He studied her, but didn’t get the chance to ask what was wrong as she locked lips with him. Of course he didn’t complain – he loved the feel of her mouth against his – but he wasn’t expecting it. Nor was he expecting her hands to explore his body. One went up his shirt and stroked his nipple, earning a gasp, while the other snaked down his pants and wrapped around his dick.

“Wh…What are you doing…?” he whispered against her lips as she began to stroke him. He could already feel the effects of her soft hands, and squirmed as his pants tightened.

She smiled, deepening the kiss. “I want to make you cum all night,” she breathed into his ear, teasing the head of his cock. He gripped her shoulder with one hand, the other pushing her skirt up and moving her panties aside. The resulting gasp melted into a moan as he rubbed her clit, gently of course. Her thighs were already damp with her own juices, and as Cristina pushed his pants down and stroked him just a little bit faster, he pushed a finger inside her. The pair never broke the kiss as they pleasured the other.

Cris pulled away only to kiss MacCready’s neck as he pushed another finger into her, thrusting gently, occasionally pulling out to pay attention to her clit. She never let up on his cock, feeling it throbbing under her hand, her pussy spasming whenever MacCready hit her g-spot. Both knew they were close, but…

“F…Fuck me,” Cristina moaned, shivering as she looked into MacCready’s eyes. He said nothing, just kissing her passionately. He moved her so she was straddling him, and helped her to lower herself down. The orgasm had been building for both of them and the sudden penetration drove them both over the edge. Yet neither stopped. Cristina began to rock her hips, MacCready thrusting at her pace.

They didn’t know when they stopped. But they were sweaty and red faced, Cris laying on top of her partner, who was stroking her hair with his eyes closed. Neither had moved from the couch, and they didn’t care if someone walked in. Their house.


	9. Newborn

“Breathe. Just breathe. You’re okay.” MacCready’s hand was being crushed into dust as he murmured the soothing words into his girlfriend’s ear. He didn’t care. As she wailed in pain he stroked her hair, calming her down. Curse the lack of painkillers, curse them to hell, but Curie had stated the labour was moving along at a nice pace. That relieved him. And Cristina herself; with her last labour, it had been arduous.

“One last push, madame,” Curie said. MacCready worried Cris didn’t have that kind of energy, but she proved him wrong. And as she slumped, exhausted, sweating, a mewling could be heard. MacCready looked over as Curie held up the newborn, clamping the umbilical cord and cutting it before handing the infant to his father. “Clean him up, please, monsieur.”

“O-Of course.” He pulled away from Cristina, kissing her forehead before rushing into another room and cleaning the little one up. The baby hadn’t stopped squalling, but was settling as he was tidied and wrapped in a soft, warm blanket. MacCready almost couldn’t believe his eyes as he walked back out.

Cristina had been allowed to completely relax, now, and she looked over as her boyfriend stepped in. Despite her weakness she managed a smile, and he couldn’t help but return it as he walked over and laid the infant in her arms. She sucked in air, her eyes glittering, and touched her baby’s tiny soft cheek. “He’s…”

“Beautiful,” MacCready finished, voice a whisper. Curie had left them be, to have their first moments with their son. He was shivering as he traced a finger down the baby’s cheek. “Wow…”

Tears pricked Cristina’s eyes, and she smiled. “Little Bailey…”

“Bailey’s a good name.”

She hugged him a bit closer, looking up and kissing MacCready’s chin. “Our family’s one bigger, now… all three of our boys are beautiful…”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Rest, sweetheart. I’ll go get the kids to meet Bailey.” He pulled away, and hurried out. Cristina couldn’t help but beam, smitten with her new baby. Their family was complete.


	10. Four Months On And You're Still Not Here

_“I love you, RJ. I’ll be back before you know it.”_

_The doubt accompanying those words filled his mind as Cristina pulled him into a tight hug, her body shaking as she squeezed him. He wrapped his arms around her, beginning to shake himself, unsure why. Something about this situation filled him with dread, formed a deep dark abyss in his stomach. And as she pulled away from him, her blue-grey eyes were scared. Deathly afraid._

MacCready’s eyes snapped open. The gasps made his chest hurt, and he pushed himself into a sitting position, his tags clinking gently together as he shifted.

Four months ago, Cristina had gone on that fateful assignment. And three months ago, he’d gotten the letter he could no longer bear to touch. It sat there on Cristina’s bedside table, and he looked over at it as he slunk out of the bed and pulled his singlet on. He hadn’t seen nor heard from her for so long. The wedding band around his finger was a heavy reminder of her loss, but he refused to take it off. He’d refused to return to any of his vices, too: he’d stopped drinking anything but water, and smoking was something he only did once every blue moon. He had to be a responsible parent now, for Duncan, for Shaun, for little Bailey.

The company of the others helped. Or, well, made it bearable in any case. But as the hours dragged on, extended to days, extended to weeks and months…

He took a shaky breath as he walked into Bailey’s room and picked the infant up. The other two kids could be heard outside, playing. As he listened, he couldn’t help but tear up, and he shook his head, heading to the kitchen. A part of him was hoping with all his heart, but he was disappointed yet again when he walked in, and failed to see her smiling face.  _She’s really gone._

MacCready couldn’t fight off the sob as he pulled Bailey close to his chest.  _Cristina… Please… come home…_


	11. Bruised and Battered, But Here at Last

MacCready rolled over, struggling to sleep restfully. His eyes opened again as a breeze blew in through the open window, and he huffed, pushing himself into a sitting position. Today had been awful. Seemingly everything had been reminding him of Cristina.

Something slammed against the front door of the house, and he nearly jumped ten feet into the air as Danse’s deep voice boomed, “ROBERT! GET OUT HERE BEFORE I BREAK YOUR DOOR DOWN!”

He pulled on a singlet and grabbed his sniper rifle – just in case – before stepping into the lounge room and pulling open the door. “Danse, it’s midnight, what—”

Danse allowed him to speak no further, just grabbing his arm tight and dragging him outside. He noticed others emerging from their houses, awoken by the noise, but he also noticed the Minutemen’s General kneeling near a collapsed form. He furrowed his brows and stepped over. As soon as he recognised the figure laying on the ground, it was as if he’d been hit by a deathclaw: all the breath rushed from his lungs.

He shouted and scrambled over, falling to his knees and cupping her cheeks. “Cris! Cristina!”

“She can’t hear you,” Nuke said quietly, binding the last of the wounds. “But she’s lucky she got here. She would have died in a few hours.”

MacCready looked up at him, eyes wide, then looked back down at Cristina. Her face was pale, bruised, but… she was alive!  _You came back!_  he wanted to weep, but she wouldn’t hear him, not yet, not until she awoke…


	12. Merry Christmas!

Her first Christmas outside the Vault. Cristina really wasn’t expecting much to be done, even as the snow fell and blanketed the settlement in soft white. Outside she heard Shaun, Duncan, and Bailey squealing as they played, bundled in thick jackets and gloves and beanies.

Codsworth whirred and hummed behind her as he made hot aster tea. She sat at the window, chin resting on her palm, elbow on the windowsill. Her thoughts drifted to those of sparkly lights and decorated trees and roaring fires and family cheer.

“Hey sweetheart.” MacCready’s soft voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked over to see him carrying a box. He’d been away for a few hours and hadn’t been expected back for a few more.

She tilted her head. “You’re back quickly. Get what you needed?”

“Didn’t need anything while I was out,” he admitted, setting the box down. “But I was looking for something, and I think I found it. But I need you to go outside, it’s a surprise.”

“It’s cold out there!” she tried to argue, but he wouldn’t budge, and with a grumble she pulled on her thickest coat and headed outside. The others were playing with the kids, so she sat on the steps of a nearby house and watched them for a bit. Eventually she joined the playing, and made some snowmen with them.

MacCready called the small family back in after a while, and Cristina picked little Bailey up before leading her sons inside. Her breath caught as she saw the tree in the corner, aglow with fairy lights of all colours, jazzed up with tinsel and baubles and even a star on top.

Tears welled in her eyes as MacCready approached, a gap-toothed grin on his face. “Merry Christmas, love.”


	13. We'll Figure It Out Together

Once, her life had been… well, not perfect. It was impossible to have a perfect life. But it had been reasonable peaceful. She’d had a loving husband, a good job, just started a family… life had been blissful.

Now, it was terrifying every day. A looming threat somehow bigger than the Reds. And she didn’t have her husband, he was long dead. Her son was gone, in the clutches of the Institute, the head of the beast in fact.

She had no idea how she was going to fix this mess, the mess she felt responsible for even though she’d had no hand in it.

“What’s on your mind?” The familiar voice snapped her from her thoughts. The form of her partner plopped down beside her and handed her a beer. It was lukewarm but it would do, she thought to herself as she cracked it open and pocketed the cap.

“Just… stuff,” she sighed after taking a long swig. “I don’t know what to do about this whole mess.”

MacCready saw the tears welling in Cristina’s eyes. He set his beer down and took hers, then wrapped her hand in both of his own and said, “Look at me.” Once she did: “We’ll figure this out together, love. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she was pulled into a tight embrace.


	14. I Almost Lost You

“RUN!” Cristina screamed as she grabbed MacCready’s hand, dragging him along as the building rumbled and shook. The mutants in the building were roaring and yelling in terror, trying to escape as well, but it was too late. The building was falling apart, thanks to that goddamn mini nuke…

Cristina tripped, and Mac yelled as he turned to try and catch her. “Crissy!” He tried to grab her, but the building was falling, crumbling to dust and chunks of rock.

“GO! SAVE YOURSELF!” Cris screamed, and MacCready teared up before he escaped.

* * *

He ran over as Cristina stumbled out of the rubble, coughing and hacking her lungs up. She didn’t even get to look over at him as he pulled her into a tight hug and smashed his lips against hers, desperately but lovingly and warmly. She returned it, gripping his shirt, and looked up at him as he pulled away and touched her face several times.

“I almost lost you…”


	15. Next Time, Girlfriend...

Laurie roared as she hefted her flamethrower. Cait was slumped against a wall, blood soaking the leather of her top, but she was still trying to get up as the Raiders came close.

“LEAVE HER ALONE!” Laurie’s eyes lit up as she pulled the trigger, cooking the Raiders and gleefully listening to their screams.

When the last one fell, she threw the flamethrower to the side and rushed to Cait’s side, kneeling beside her and cupping her cheeks. “Caity?” Her voice was low, scared, but she managed a smile when Cait looked over and croaked that she was okay. She pressed her lips to Cait’s, a soft tender kiss, one full of both fear and relief.

When she pulled away, she shook her head. “Next time, girlfriend, don’t go chargin’ in like that.” She could not stop the smile on her face.


	16. Future

Before the bombs had fallen, in the warmer months, Cristina had always loved to go to the beach and sit around, basking in the sunlight. Sometimes she journeyed there with friends, and they spoke about current events and swam in the ocean’s waters and occasionally panicked when seaweed brushed against their ankles. Now, as she sat on a bench and watched the sea, all she felt in her heart was sorrow.

It was warm, according to the people of the Commonwealth Wasteland. To Cristina, there was no warmth to be had. It was cool as autumn. The waters were icy cold and there was more than just seaweed tickling the ankles to be worried about. The mirelurks and whatever goddamn monsters the fish had turned into…

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think on the past. She could only look to the future, now… even if she was doubting she even had a future here.


	17. Memories Forgotten

_“No! Let me go!” They struggled as they tried in vain to escape the clutches of the coursers, but it was no good. The Institute’s synths had them, and they had heard enough to know they were being either replaced… or worse. “LET ME GO!” They struggled harder, kicking and thrashing, but as they were dragged past the young leader of the Institute they sagged and begged to a higher power they would be spared._

Phoenix sat bolt upright from where they were sleeping. The sounds of crickets filled the cool night air, and they blinked a few times before clutching their head and groaning.


	18. Damned Job

She may not have had many smarts, but she knew she should never have taken that damned job.

Arden Grace walked along the dusty, crumbled roads of the Mojave Desert, thinking to herself. Beside her walked Boone, her good friend and admittedly her crush, but she could never admit that, not to him. He may have come to terms with everything–if that was the right way of putting it; who could ever come truly to terms with what he’d been forced to do?–but she was still not pushing her luck. She’d been decently lucky her whole life but she knew when it was best not to force it.

She gave an audible sigh. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Boone peer at her, and avoided his gaze in a subtle manner. She took a swig of her canteen, offering it to Boone, but like always he politely declined. Well… politely may have been the wrong word, but it was never aggressive or annoyed. Merely… blunt.

Why had she ever taken the job with the damned Platinum Chip? The caps? Or just to get away from the hovel she had been raised in. She didn’t know, but thinking back on it now…

“I’m such a dumb bitch,” she mumbled to herself, Carey’s pendant heavy around her throat. “I should never have left.”


	19. The Past Affects The Future

To most people, Arden was happy, bubbly, friendly, unbothered by the wasteland. Some called her naive, some stupid. And yet, at no point did she seem troubled by any of this. Her companion never noticed if she was, for she had never showed signs of it…

But today, today was different.

Arden had not come out of her room in Novac all day. It had been a short stopover, according to her, but Boone was becoming frustrated with this wait. Half the day was already gone and they still hadn’t set out.

He walked up the stairs and rapped on her door with his knuckles. “Arden, are you alright in there?” he asked. “Half the day’s gone. We’re wasting time.”

There was no answer on the other side, and he jiggled the doorknob. Locked, of course. Arden seemingly did not want to be disturbed, but he was going to get in.

* * *

Arden was laying on the bed, her back to the door, when Boone managed to get in. She heard the door unlock and heard it swing open, but she didn’t react. She just stared at the wall in front of her and let the tears pool on her pillow. Her gun was discarded on the floor, broken in two. At least it was just a standard hunting rifle and easily replaceable.

“Arden?” Boone stepped over, his voice not betraying the worry. “Arden, get up, we need to–”

“I don’t want to. I just want to stay here.” Her voice was hoarse, and she did not turn to look at Boone. He sat on the bed beside her, raising a brow. “You should… go.”

“Not without you.”

“You’re better off without me.” She curled up a little bit. “Nobody needs me. You don’t need some dumbass slowing you down.”

He wondered where this was coming from. Yes, Arden was not bright. But what had happened to affect her like this…?


	20. Comfort

The crickets chirped in the night air. The pair were fast asleep in a small tent, erected between two outcrops of rocks. Perfectly protected, hidden from view… but not safe from the nightmares.

Arden was struggling with… memories. Unbidden and better left forgotten. She was a child again, trying not to cry as she was relentlessly tormented by her peers. Carey was yelling at the boys and girls but it was no use. They didn’t let up. “Dummy! Idiot! Stupidhead!” Those were the insults used and while childish they still cut Arden deep. All over not being able to work out the game they’d been playing.

It flashed between instances of the bullying, of the pain, of the many times people told her she was stupid, she should die, she’d never amount to anything—

She shot awake, chest heaving, breath coming in gasps. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she swallowed, trying so hard to suppress the sobs, the lump in her throat, but she couldn’t and she was not quiet. She woke Boone, her companion, who sat up once he became fully aware of what was happening.

There were no words that could be spoken, and he knew this. He just reached over and pulled her into a gentle, very awkward hug. Her sobs choked but never stopped, even as she clung to him and pressed into his chest. All he could do was hold her, wait this out, and give her the comfort she needed.

Help her, like she’d helped him.


	21. Not As Stupid As You Think

“I’m sorry.” Arden hefted her pack up as Boone slept, setting the note down beside him and watching his face for a little. She didn’t want to do this—she cared for him, she didn’t want him to be alone—but to stay would be a disaster for him. So many times already she’d nearly gotten him killed by nightstalkers and Legion men (even if he did chase down the latter on his own) and it hurt. It hurt to know she couldn’t keep him safe.

She shook her head and left the tent, heading down the road. Her Pip-Boy was directing her to the border. She was heading home, heading back to Carey’s place, and…

Someone grabbed her arm, and she shrieked before whipping around to find Boone standing there, just… watching her. “Where are you going, Arden?”

“Home. I’m… going home.”

“Alone?”

Her chest tightened, and she looked down. “Yes, Boone… alone.”

“Why?”

She could barely breathe. “Because… because every day I put you in danger. I…”

“You don’t put me in any more danger than the rest of the Mojave.” He didn’t release her arm. “Arden, please. What’s wrong? Ever since we had that discussion with those… men—”

“They were right, y'know. Those men.” She pulled her arm free and hugged herself, the pendant at her throat cold. “I am… not really good at anything, I don’t have the smarts to be out here. I’d lose my head if it weren’t screwed on.”

“You let them define your self-worth?” He turned her to face him, his eyes concealed behind his glasses. “You took their words to heart?”

“Because they’re true! I’m not… I’m not smart! All my life I’ve been stupid, I can’t even work out a simple child’s game even now!” She felt the tears welling up and she took a deep breath to try to stop herself from crying. “I’m always being laughed at, not with, because I’m so stupid! So many people call me an idiot, brainless, you name it I’ve heard it! Why can’t you see it?!”

“Because you’re not stupid.”

She stopped. She didn’t understand what he meant.

“You may not be able to understand technical stuff, but I’ve seen you operate. You have street smarts, survival smarts. You can survive in this world better than a lot of people. You may seem naive and wander around in the deserts looking for trouble, but you’re aware of what’s out there.” He shook his head. “You’re not stupid, Arden. People just can’t see how smart you are.”


	22. Reunited

The Legion soldiers had come in force, and the battle had been bloody and long. Desperately the two had tried to defend themselves, but it had been useless. They’d been separated in the aftermath and now, both were wandering alone.

Arden stumbled. Her knee throbbed from when she’d twisted it. But she didn’t want to encounter more Legion men. They’d kill her and she knew it.

Eventually she found a small abandoned hut. It was here she sought shelter, sitting on the decaying mattress and swallowing the lump in her throat. She missed Boone. He was… good to her. And even if he didn’t reciprocate her feelings, he was a good friend and she loved him.

———————

It was several days before she found a town. And who was there? The very man she’d been looking for. Worse for wear and tired, but alive! And as if he felt her presence he turned around as she stepped through the gate’s threshold. He moved towards her, his intentions unclear until he pulled her into a tight, warm embrace.

He said nothing. He did not need to. Arden returned the hug and held him tight, just glad he was okay.


	23. Pacifistic Monster

Phoenix knew they were in trouble.

They pressed against the rock wall, almost holding their breath as the Raiders yelled and threatened them. These Raiders wanted to find Phoenix and they knew if they were discovered…

They hefted the missile launcher. Pacifism was alright, but they needed to protect themselves, and the settlers of the nearby township had complained about this particular group before… They loaded it, and hefted it onto their shoulder, taking a deep breath before stepping into the open.

“THERE IT IS!” one of the Raiders screamed, and bullets began to rain down on Phoenix. They were glad their skin was thicker than normal, for the bullets stung but didn’t pierce and do much damage. They aimed, fired, and winced as the resulting explosion took out most of the Raiders. Two survived with major injuries, and screamed and cried in pain, writhing and struggling as Phoenix put the missile launcher away.

They didn’t know what to do. To leave them here, crying and agonised, would be cruel. But to kill them–while it would be a mercy–went against everything Phoenix was trying to stand for. These Raiders were no longer a threat, they were incapacitated…

They simply had to leave. To be seen killing these defenceless people would just solidify in the minds of others Phoenix was still a monster.


	24. Goodbye, My Baby

The gunfire outside filled her ears as she closed the door behind her and slung her rifle onto her back. Before her, laying in the bed and watching her with dull eyes, was her son.

A mixture of emotions welled inside her. A lump rose in her throat and tears prickled in her eyes even as her fists clenched and she began to shake. But not once did she reach for a weapon as she stepped over.

“Shaun.”

“Mother.”

A stiff, awkward exchange coloured with anger and hate and regret. There was silence between them, neither knowing what to say. Cristina took her son’s hand in both her own and held it, and he didn’t pull away even though she had ‘betrayed’ him.

“Does it hurt?” Her voice was a whisper.

“It does, Mother. It does.” He watched her. “But it hurts more knowing you are dedicated to our destruction.”

It was an inevitable conversation. “I’m… I’m sorry, Shaun, but the Institute is causing grief and pain to the people of the Commonwealth. And… I don’t approve of what you’re doing.”

“Do you hate me, Mother?”

“No.”

He seemed surprised, and Cristina looked down. “No matter what, despite everything you do… I can never hate you. You are still my son, even if you don’t agree with what I do, even if you hate me… I will never stop loving you.”

He said nothing as she pulled away and turned her back, tears dripping down her cheeks. She took a shaky breath, then pulled out Kellogg’s revolver and looked over her shoulder. “Goodbye, Shaun.”


	25. From The Sierra

Arden was dizzy as she wandered back into Novac. Disoriented and confused, she had but one thing on her mind. All she could remember was being in the abandoned bunker, then fighting for her life in that horrible, horrible Sierra Madre…

She stumbled and collapsed, slamming into the dirt. Her head pounded and her mouth was dry. Likely dehydrated, but she didn’t have any water or food. She had escaped with just her life and that was all she’d wanted to escape with. No treasure was worth what she’d been through…

The disabled collar was still on her neck, even when her eyelids–heavy with sleep–fell shut…

* * *

She awoke with strong arms gently resting on her, soft breathing against the back of her bare neck. The necklace brushed against her skin every so often. She blinked and looked over her shoulder as much as possible without stirring too much, so not to disturb whomever was laying beside her. Boone, she discovered.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she managed to roll over. “Boone?” she whispered.

He stirred and peered at her. “Arden.” His tone was neutral, but she heard the worry and the relief underneath it. “You’re awake.” He shifted so he could touch her cheek, his eyes showing fear in the depths. “You’re ALIVE.”


	26. The Radios Are In Your Head

He’d noticed a change in her since she’d returned from the Sierra Madre.

Arden was jittery, and constantly turned off radios whenever they encountered one. She barely coped wearing the necklace she always wore, and sometimes she jumped at things that weren’t there.

But it was always nighttime he saw the worst of it.

Arden slept against him, her head resting on his bicep. His arm wrapped around her, his fingers touching her shoulder, she felt safe. And yet, she still woke up screaming, struggling, crying.

Boone exhaled and pulled her a bit closer. Whatever he’d done to be blessed with her, he thanked it. He would never let her go.


	27. Searching for Carey

Boone kept his head down as he made his way through the ‘bustling’ Diamond City, making a beeline straight for the doctor. He didn’t like being in such a busy place, but Arden was more important than his current feelings.

Just as he was about to leave, after grabbing the stimpaks he needed, he was stopped by a veritable TROUPE of people, led by a bouncy tall woman wearing a pirate hat. She noticed him and bounced right over, extending her hand and greeting, “Heeeello there, stranger!”

Boone looked at her hand, then looked back at her and said, “Please step out of my way, or my partner will die.”

They were all taken aback by how blunt he was, but at least they moved aside. He nodded and kept going, all too aware of the fact they followed him like a lingering fart. Just as annoying, too, but his priority was Arden.

He walked through the city calmly and confidently, hyper aware of the grunts and growls of the wasteland creatures. The group watched as he went over to a half ruined building and ducked in through a hole in the wall, kneeling beside a bedroll. A person was sleeping there, all purple hair. Boone gently shook her shoulder and she stirred, looking up at him. They couldn’t see her face, only Boone’s as he injected her with a stimpak and set the others into a backpack.

Then he looked over. “You might as well come in, since you’re… insistent on following me.”

They all stepped in as the woman sat up, blinking as they did so. “Craig, you picked up… followers.”

“Not willingly. They followed me.” He shifted and sat beside the woman, putting an arm behind her back. “So? Why did you follow?”

“You’re not from here. It’s more obvious than me being from a Vault, and I stuck out,” Cristina admitted, frowning as she saw the pale skin of the woman. Sickly. “Goodness, are you doing okay?”

“Nah I got bitten by some mutt so now I’m sick and feel like I’m going to die.”

Boone looked at her. “Arden, please don’t joke about that.”

“Sorry, Boone.” She beamed at the group. “Hi, I’m Arden Grace, this is Craig Boone, we’re from the Mojave!”

Cristina smiled. “I’m Cristina Howard, these here are my… many friends.”

“Nice to meet you all!” Arden beamed, then saw Strong. “Oh! Oh!! You!! Mr Mutant!!”

Boone pinched the bridge of his nose as Strong grunted.

Arden was undeterred. “Have you seen a mutant with a tattoo of a o… our… ouro… uh… a snake eating itself?!”

“An ouroboros,” Boone corrected. “Apparently, on their right shoulder. This mutant is Arden’s parent.”

“You were raised by a mutant?” MacCready asked, peering around Cristina.

“No, no, they were human but then when I was delivering mail they went bye-bye and apparently came here and I found out they were mutated.” She seemed impressed that she’d remembered all that, and Boone nodded. Arden deflated when Cristina frowned. “Um… I’m… I’m sorry, but no, I haven’t found a mutant like that.”

“Oh…”

“But, if you want, we can share Pip-Boy signals and I can contact you if I find anything like that?”

“Yes! Please!!” Arden beamed and looked down at her Pip-Boy, poking at it, trying to find her signal. Her face fell slowly as she struggled, and eventually she took it off, handing it to Boone with a neutral expression.

Once the signals were shared, the group left, and Arden was silent. Boone looked at her, calmly. “We’ll find them, Den.” He knew that wasn’t what she was upset about, but it was better to take the topic away from that…


	28. Rescue Mission

He stood at the edge of the Glowing Sea, the green smog drifting around him as he looked into its depths. Here, he felt connected to Atom, but it wasn’t a nice feeling these days. Since he’d left the Crater, he’d stopped practicing, and while he knew Atom truly did not care he still had a sensation of unease making its way up his spine.

“Nuke?” Preston’s voice crackling through the radio caught his attention, and he looked down at his collar, where the radio was sitting. “Nuke, are you there? The feedback is awful.”

“I’m here, Pres,” Nuke replied, exhaling, breathing in the irradiation. Thank Atom for a natural–or, well, synthesised, considering–immunity to rads. “I’m going into the Sea. Cait said she was taken this way, yes?”

“That’s correct. Apparently Miss Anders really angered the Children of Atom.”

“The Children are doing the wrong thing,” Nuke simply admitted. “I’ll rescue her. I should be able to speak with Mother Isolde.”

“Just…” Preston exhaled shakily. “Be careful, babe. Come back in one piece.”

Nuke wished he could give Preston another hug. “I will, dear. I will.”


	29. No Longer One, But Another

The pair stared at each other. The mutant’s eyes were as kind as they had been when they’d been human, but they had no recognition in them. Even as Arden recognised them from the tattoo on their right arm… even as she whispered a name no longer familiar… no recognition came.

Phoenix tilted their head. “Who… are you?” It was hard, so damn hard, to articulate properly. Every movement hurt them, they tried not to do anything as unnecessary as speaking. They didn’t really have anyone to talk to anyway. “You… know me?”

“I do.” Arden took a step forward. Phoenix took one back. “Carey… it’s… it’s me, your daughter, Arden…”

“I… I don’t…” It hurt. It was unbearable. “I don’t…” There was a pause. “You, stranger.”

The words pained her more than she would ever admit. Boone stepped up and laid a hand on her shoulder, silent but supportive. She swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat, but try as she might she could not suppress the tears that began to run down her cheeks. Her own parent, who’d taught her everything she knew, who was one of the few people who had never said a bad thing about her… was gone forever. Lost to whatever had happened, whatever had turned Carey into the Super Mutant calling themselves Phoenix.


	30. First Meeting

Daniel Grace blinked as he looked at the Old Mormon Fort. He’d been walking for weeks now to come here; he’d heard the Followers of the Apocalypse were looking for men–or women–of science and medicine, and he had made himself known in his hometown as a doctor. An excellent one, too, for he had studied all the pre-war texts he could get his hands on.

He took a deep breath and pushed the doors open. The stench of sickness and injury filled his nose but he did not pause, nor did he gag. He was used to it. He travelled from place to place, township to township, providing help and support wherever he could.

“Are you here to provide help?” A voice caught his attention and he turned, blinking as he saw the blond man standing there. His breath caught at how… attractive this person was, but he shoved those feelings down. After his last boyfriend had cheated, Daniel had vowed to never fall for another soul.

“Ah, yes. Doctor Grace.” He extended his hand.

The man took it. “Arcade Gannon. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”


	31. The Cazador

“Den!! Den!! Come see!!” Daniel squeaked as he knelt beside the strange, dead insect. His little sister, Arden, peered over the rocks at the creature, all wings and big stinger and compound eyes.

Daniel picked up a small stick and poked it a few times. Arden crept over, her tiny hand grabbing Daniel’s patchy coat and her bright blue eyes filled with a curious fear. “Danny, what is it…?”

“I dunno. Maybe Carey knows?” Daniel picked her up, holding her on his hip. As if summoned, their parent rounded the corner and stopped dead as they saw the body of the cazador. Daniel opened his mouth to greet Carey, but fell silent at the dread on their face.

“Is it dead?”

“Looks it.”

Carey nodded. “Good. Come away, children.” They carefully ushered them away, back to the main township, their mind awash with many thoughts.


	32. At Least

Laurie awoke in a small shack, her honey amber eyes bright. She sat up, blinking, noticing she was only wearing her crop top and her pants. Her scarf, her boots, and her flamer were sitting on the table nearby, where General Nuke was sitting, tinkering with an old radio.

“Yo, Nuke.”

Her voice attracted his attention. He looked over, his grey eyes warm as he stood and approached. “You’re awake. Excellent. Thought you were done for, for a while there.”

Her brows furrowed. “Whaddya mean?”

He sat beside her. “I don’t know why the Children of Atom captured you. But they dragged you, unprotected, to their most holy crater. You almost died.”

Thoughts rushed through her head, and she swallowed a bit. “Where’s Caity?”

“On her way, if I was able to get through. Preston should have sent her.”

Laurie nodded, laying back down. She felt ill, and became aware of the Radaway hooked up to her arm. At least Cait would soon be here…


	33. University

Cristina’s shoes clicked as she walked through the foyer of the university, her books hugged to her chest, her hair tied in a short ponytail. Her eyes were bright and shiny as she looked around.

Three years. She just had to get through three years. She could easily do that, now that she’d escaped from her father, now that she was stable in life. Her boyfriend was military, after all, so they had security. He would never lose his job, not with the rising threat of the Commies.

She beamed. To live her life as a justice of the peace… there was no way she wouldn’t be that. She would prove her dad wrong, she would do it… and she would bring people like him to justice for their crimes.


	34. Coping Badly

Arden sat on the edge of the cliff. The sea breeze caressed her face and made the wetness on her cheeks cold. Finding Carey had been a goal of hers since the NCR had taken over Hoover Dam… but this wasn’t what she’d wanted. She’d wanted to run to Carey, hug them and cry into them, tell them how much she’d missed them…

But no. They were gone, replaced with a mutant who had no memory of them. It was like Dog and God all over again and she hated it. Pulling her legs close, she tried not to cry, but it was hard, so so hard…

Someone knelt beside her and put an arm around her. He didn’t speak, of course, he rarely did. He never said too much, but for Arden, sometimes that was what she needed. She pressed into his chest and gripped his top, trying to cope with what had happened…


	35. Rescued From The Legion

Arden slowly lifted her head. Wincing as her brain pulsed and her vision swam, she managed to look around just enough to see she was tied to a cross. At first, it didn’t set in, but when it did her eyes widened and she began to panic. Her heart thump-thump-thumped against her chest as she pulled against the ropes, ignoring the burning as the skin was chafed off. She needed to get free! Alas, she could not; all she could do was slump and hope to whatever higher power existed that someone would save her…

When had she fallen asleep? She didn’t know, but she awoke to the coldness of steel on her wrists. Blearily she managed to lift her head, but the movement only got her mouth covered by a bare, calloused hand. She blinked as she saw the skin, the strong arms, the familiar visage of her rescuer… and as she fell from the cross, she was caught and carried away.

Boone did not speak as he snuck through the camp, his eyes searching for Legionaries as he weaved through the tents and structures. Other people on crosses caught Arden’s attention but she could see they were beyond saving. They were dead. Her heart hurt for them.

She’d passed out again. This time, when she woke, Boone was slumbering beside her. Close, his arm over her, protective. As she shifted, he woke, and looked at her. “Arden.”

“Craig,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes. “Wh…What happened?”

“Attacked by Legion men.” He touched her cheek. “I thought you were done for.”

“Thanks to you, I’m not.” She shifted closer, liking how warm he was. She was cold. “I owe you one.”

“Consider us… even.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before sitting up and grabbing some food. “Now eat.”

Wordlessly, she took the food, her forehead tingling. Was she dreaming? If she was… she didn’t want to wake up.


	36. Evening Star

Boone was pacing nervously outside the tent. The old fort’s residents were mostly ignoring him, just as they were ignoring the cries and wails coming from the tent’s interior.

It stopped, and Boone’s head whipped around, eyes widening behind his glasses. He fought the urge to run inside; Doctor Grace had told him that it would be difficult to see her in such a weak state given Boone’s history. He wanted to be in there with her… but he’d known that it would make her panic if he began to freak.

Daniel stepped out of the tent after 20 minutes had passed. “Head on in.” His voice was gentle, and Boone gave a curt nod before ducking inside. His breath caught as he saw Arden sitting up, pale and sweat-covered, holding a small bundle. She looked over as Boone approached, giving a wide albeit exhausted smile.

“She’s beautiful.”

Boone looked at the baby. The tiny rosy cheeks, the eyes so dark blue they were like midnight… his heart swelled with love as he put his hand over one of Arden’s. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to.

Little Vesper was their beautiful, midnight-eyed daughter. And he would do anything to protect her.


	37. Found Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie Marsh belongs to calignos.tumblr.com

The pair walked in relative silence, listening to the sounds of the wilderness. The male of the pair, one Archer Montgomery, examined an old world map while his partner, Ellie Marsh, made sure they weren’t set upon by some… unwanted attention.

“We’re almost in Massachusetts,” he said, with Ellie peering over her shoulder at his tone of voice. “I wonder if… I’ll meet Cristina.”

“I’m sure you will.” Ellie stopped and turned to him. “After all… you discovered she was alive, yeah? From all the information we’ve found about Vault-Tec?”

“Alive, yes, but there’s no information on how to turn off any of the cryogenics in 111.” He sighed and folded the map, shoving it into a gap of his old combat armour. “Oh well. We might as well learn what we can about the old Vaults here, how ‘bout it?”

Ellie grinned and nodded, then blinked as she noticed the glint of a barrel. She signalled using her eyes, and Archer nodded before pulling out his own gun and aiming, clicking his Pip-Boy and activating the assisted targeting system. “Lower your weapon or we will shoot you. We do not want trouble.”

The glint disappeared, and a woman stood, eyes wide. Archer felt like he’d been slugged in the gut as the woman tentatively approached; there was no doubt in his mind she recognised him as he recognised her.

Ellie blinked, looking between the two, before whispering, “Well. Guess we found her, hey?”


	38. Courier Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be

Little Vesper slept peacefully against her father’s chest as he walked. He was calm as he stroked her tiny little curls, just strolling in Novac, making sure the infant stayed asleep while her mother was out doing… courier work. Boone didn’t quite get what she actually did, but he was fine with it. It brought in the caps needed to keep Vesper comfortable and safe.

He blinked as Vesper burbled, looking down. The little one was not awake, thankfully, and he took a breath before heading back inside. It was beginning to cool down, and Arden had been adamant Vesper not be outside in the cold for long periods of time. He knew why, of course, even if she hadn’t explained it in the best way.

* * *

Vesper cried and flailed her little arms as Boone rocked her, shushing her gently, bouncing her gently up and down in his arms. As exhausted as he was he was not complaining. Arden hadn’t come home from her assignment and he was fretting.

The lock clicked, and Boone looked up. He grabbed a pistol from nearby,  _just in case_ , and held Vesper close as the door opened. A flash of purple made him relax, and he set the pistol down as Arden closed the door behind her. “Hello, Arden.”

“Hey Craig,” she murmured, flashing a smile at him. Vesper was now burbling, smiling and wiggling delightedly. “Vesp been giving you grief? You look exhausted.”

“I could use some sleep,” he simply admitted, stepping over to her as she took her rifle off her back. “How was your… assignment?”

“Terrible. You’d think being a mailman would be easy, but  _noooooo_  it’s absolutely horrid.” She turned and hugged Boone gently, giving him a light peck on the lips. “Here, let me take the baby, and you get some sleep. Deal?”

“Deal.” His lips twitched upwards, before he handed Vesper over, kissed Arden’s forehead, and went to bed. She smiled as she sat beside him, listening to the soft sound of his breathing as he fell into a light, but peaceful sleep.


	39. Come Home

It was a cool Mojave night. For Daniel, it was peaceful, a welcome change from the sweltering heat of the day. As he reviewed some of the medical reports, he lamented on how people had become so… far removed from the medicinal practices of the Old World.

He filed the reports and stood, walking over to the tent flap and stepping into the night air. There was an old pre-war hospital a few miles away, and he was tempted to head there. The Old World’s history may have been lost to the general populace but remnants lingered in buildings otherwise too dangerous.

“Where are you going?”

Daniel jumped and looked over. Arcade was standing there, holding a few more reports, his eyes soft and curious.

“The old hospital a few miles away. I’ve read the reports and I might be able to find some medicine. Or, at the very least, much needed supplies.”

He frowned. “I’m coming with you.”

“No, Arcade. I can’t let you.” Daniel furrowed his brows and put a hand on his hip. “It could be dangerous and while I know you’re handy in a fight… the Followers need you.”

Arcade looked unconvinced, but nodded. Daniel could see the reluctance in his eyes, so he stepped over and took his hand. “I’ll be fine, Arcade. I’ve wandered all over the place.”

“Just come home. Okay?” Arcade kissed his cheek. “Just come home.”


	40. Depression

_You’re not wanted. You’re not needed in this godawful world. You should go back to your Vault, hide, lock the lift and the door, freeze in the cold of 111. Your child forsook you. Your life before was destroyed. And everyone else would rather the company of each other than a relic._

Cristina looked down at the small settlement, her eyes wet with tears. Could she really go through with this…?


	41. Simple Mistake

Arden Grace had never experienced such a hollowness in her chest. She hadn’t meant to do it, of course, she would never wish harm upon Craig Boone. But in a moment of confusion, a moment of panic at having few bullets with a sea of Legionaries coming after them, she’d pulled the trigger and the bullet had sunk into Boone’s back. With a yell he’d fallen, and… well, the rest, he didn’t know.

He awoke in the care of the Followers of the Apocalypse. More so, in the care of one Daniel Grace, Arden’s brother. His back throbbed with a fiery pain but he ignored it as he managed to push himself into a sitting position. Arden wasn’t around, that was plain as day.

“Where is she?” The words burst forth as soon as Daniel entered the tent.

His reaction was just as immediate. “You won’t find her.”

“Try me.” Boone attempted to get up, ignore the pain. “I need to find her.”

“She’s gone, Craig.” The words stopped the sniper in his tracks, and he looked at Daniel, praying to whatever gods there were that Daniel wasn’t saying Arden was DEAD. “She dropped you off to us, then left.”

Relief surged through his heart. She was alive. “I’ll find her.”

“…I shouldn’t tell you this. But… she went home. To where we used to live.”

Boone paused once more. Arden had once told him about her hometown, somewhere between Mojave and Capital. But she’d also told him that two years after she, Daniel and Carey had all left, it had been burned to the ground and ransacked. So what reason did she have to return…?

He shook his head. “Arden… I have to go to her.”

* * *

Arden was sitting at the old, rusted table, swirling a Sunset Sarsparilla around in the cracked glass. Her Pip-Boy and guns sat discarded on the rotting couch, and her beret was shoved in a box somewhere. It hurt to look at it. She’d almost paralysed–nay, almost KILLED–the man she loved and her heart was broken. She truly believed she was cursed, wanted to make sure he would be free from her–

The door flew open. A rush of hot air blasted her as the door slammed against the wall. Arden jumped and stood, taking her weathered 10mm from its holster on her leg, but she faltered when she saw who it was.

“Craig. I… I thought I told Dan–”

“Don’t.” He put his gun aside and stepped over, ignoring the pain in his back. He took her gun from her hand and laid it on the table, clicking the safety on as he did so. Then he looked at her, and touched her cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb. “Why did you leave?”

“I shot you.”

“Accident.”

She sniffled. “I still shot you… I almost killed you…”

He silenced her by pulling her into a tight, warm, comforting hug. Pressing his lips against her hair, he held her as she began to sob. She needed to know he wasn’t about to leave her alone after such a simple mistake…


	42. Brother And Sister Together Again

Arden ran through the cavern, armed with only a 10mm pistol. Her hunting rifle? Broken. Grenades? None. But she was supported by her companion, running behind her, unsure why she was so… desperate.

She leapt over a gap and sprinted around a corner, opening fire as the nightstalkers snapped and screeched. One head, blown off. Another, legs shattered. Others were put down with bullets from Boone. And still she kept running, further and further into the cavern… until she found the pair. Surrounded by the nightstalkers, out of ammunition…

She grabbed a discarded machete and ran straight for the pack of mutants. With a quick slice she killed one and injured several more. They howled as their attention was diverted, and she fought them off one by one, machete in one hand and 10mm in the other. Boone was barely able to take his eyes off her, impressed and also a little bit shocked as the last of the nightstalkers died.

She threw the machete away and it clattered to the ground. Then she turned and brushed her purple hair from her face, beaming as if she hadn’t just slaughtered a horde of highly dangerous creatures. “Hello, Dan.”

“D-Den!” the blue haired man exclaimed, pulling Arden into a tight hug, to the surprise of his own companion. “Oh stars above you’re alive!”

“Good to see you too, Dan. I’ve missed you.”


	43. Sick

She was worried for him. Even if he was stubborn, there was no hiding the fact he was incredibly ill.

Boone was stuck laying in bed, in his room in Novac. Every so often his body was wracked with a coughing fit. His skin was clammy and he could barely move. He was just glad Arden was with him; she’d made him comfortable and was keeping him hydrated.

“Aren’t worried about catching it?” he mumbled as Arden sat beside him on the bed.

“Nah,” she mused. “I’ve never been sick.”

“Lucky.”

“I doubt it.” She held his hand. “Just a great immune system.”


	44. Quiet Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

The quiet days were the rarest, for the pair. They were always out and about, hunting Legionaries or just exploring the Mojave wasteland. Some days, though, they returned to Novac and stayed there for a few days.

They were laying together in Arden’s room. She was playing on her Pip-Boy, he was quietly watching her, contemplating things. He never said it, never knew what to say, but he adored her. Arden was beautiful even when she didn’t believe it. He almost couldn’t believe he was this lucky for a second time.

Her blue eyes flicked to him. “Something up?” she asked, a smile stretching across her face as she set the Pip-Boy aside. “You’re looking at me pretty intensely.”

“Beautiful.”

She blinked a few times, her cheeks turning pink. “U-Um… th… thank you?” She looked down, bashful, covering her face with her purple hair. Boone sat up a bit, brushing it out of the way. She peered at him under her eyelashes, noticing there was a faint smile on his lips. “Y…You think so?”

He gave a nod, his fingertips brushing against her cheeks. He had no words to describe her properly, but… well, he’d always heard actions spoke louder than words. So Arden was surprised when he gently cupped her face and kissed her.

It was a gentle, tender gesture, something most would not expect from the stoic sniper. But she did not pull away, instead melting into the kiss, returning it. Boone shifted closer as the pair kissed. They didn’t mind when it began to become more intense, a bit deeper and a bit… hungrier. But both were still gentle with the other. Arden wrapped her arms around Boone’s shoulders, he pulled her closer, ending up in a sitting position with her on his lap.

At what point did they end up with Arden’s back against the sheets, Boone above her, both shirtless? Neither knew, even as he admired the curves of her body, and she admired his muscles. There was a hickey on his neck, and he was aware of it, but he didn’t mind. They were a little bit sweaty, but this didn’t stop them as Boone murmured, “You okay?”

She nodded. “You?” she asked as she put a hand on his shoulder, her cheeks still pink. He nodded back, kissing her once more, one hand trailing down her stomach and to the lip of her pants. He hesitated and pulled away to look into her eyes, the question not needing to be asked; Arden gave him another nod, and a smile. Boone was relieved, and slipped his hand inside. She gasped as he touched her, her cheeks darkening. She gripped his arm, pressing into him and pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss as he pleasured her.

They spent the rest of the afternoon and the whole of the night together, intimately intertwined with the other, exploring each other and connecting in a way they’d never believed they would. And when the sun rose, they were laying together, naked and exhausted, sleeping peacefully with no regard for the troubles outside the Novac room.


	45. Valentine

In the Mojave it was difficult to find flowers that weren’t… ugly. But Boone had found enough to make a bouquet, and he was finishing tying them together so it didn’t all fall apart on him… or the recipient. Old desert roses, flowers pulled from cacti–he still had quills in his fingers–and a good many flowers from Vault 22.

He nodded as he looked at the bouquet, then headed back to Novac, where Arden currently was. He was a little nervous as he walked up the steps and stopped in front of her door. He raised his hand, paused, lowered it, shook his head, then managed to knock. He pulled the bouquet behind his back as the door locked clicked.

Arden pulled the door open, beaming. “Craaaaig~!”

Boone panicked. And thrust the bouquet right in her face. “Here.”


	46. Trauma

It was that day all over again. He was on that ridge, aiming at the injured and the women and the children and the sick… and struggling, doubting, not wanting to pull the trigger. But then they were all dead and he was alone on the ridge, covered in the blood of slaughtered innocents and he was shaking and trying not to cry. His face was stony as he looked at the bodies. His rifle clattered to the ground as he saw Carla’s face amongst the sea of the dead, Carla’s and a baby’s, his baby’s…

The Legion surrounded him, the Legion and their guns and their machetes, and suddenly he was fighting for his life. He yelled and fought as viciously as he could but he was getting wounded, more and more wounded, his blood mixing with the blood of those he’d killed.

And then, Arden.

He shot awake as he was shaken, his chest tight, gasping and wheezing. Arden was leaning over him, her hair mussed and her blue eyes filled with a worry so deep Boone almost broke then and there. He tried to speak, to say  _something_  to comfort her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t.

“Craig… oh, Craig…” Arden moved over, looping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him to her. He pressed close, burying his head in her neck, his own arms wrapping around her and his hands gripping her singlet. He did not cry, audibly, but she could feel he was distressed. Shaking, breathing heavily, occasionally swallowing around a lump in his throat… Arden kissed his temple and stroked the back of his head, wanting so badly to do something more, something to help him…

But for now, this had to suffice.


	47. Memories of Fire

Laurie hadn’t come back here since the Raiders had taken everyone. But now, as she walked through the gates, her chest tightened and her fists clenched. The memories flashed in front of her eyes, the screams filled her mind, the smoking ruins replaced by burning buildings. Charred bones littered the ground.

Cait watched Laurie. “Ya right?”

“I’ll be fine. Just… had to come back, y'know?” She stepped over to one of the solider ruins, an old hall. She touched the door, soot coming away on her fingertips, before pushing it open and stepping inside. Fond memories of sitting on the floor, or on her mother’s lap, came unbidden. She was hearing the elders’ voices again, prattling on about the history of the Old World. But she wasn’t there anymore, or they weren’t, anyway.

A hand on her shoulder pulled her from her past. She looked over to see Cait’s worried gaze. “Cait…”

“Take yer time. I’m here.”

Laurie laid a hand over Cait’s. “Thanks, Caity.”


	48. In Memorial

The flowers floated on top of the water, and Arden watched them quietly as they drifted. Boone stood behind her, watching with curiosity and confusion. This was a ritual of hers, once a year she did it, although Boone had never seen it before nor had he ever heard of it.

When she stood, and approached, he decided to ask. “What’s this for?”

She looked at him. “When I was little, I was left on Carey’s doorstep, with one of these flowers. Turns out someone rescued me from some bad people when I was little, and took me away… so Carey and Daniel and I started doing this, putting flowers on water, as a way of… well…” She trailed off and hugged herself. “Giving respect to that person.”

Boone nodded a bit. Although this left another question… exactly what had happened to Arden’s biological parents?


	49. Orphaned

Carey had never anticipated having kids of their own. They’d spent many of their adult years alone, not lonely thanks to the people of the town, but never taking a partner or never having children. So when a little boy named Daniel had been thrust upon them, they certainly hadn’t ever expected it. Yet they’d taken on the challenge, and for a while, life was good. Daniel was a bubbly, bouncing, intelligent young boy, and Carey loved him.

One day, on a stormy night, the sound of wailing cut through the silence of the settlement. Carey groaned and pushed themselves into a sitting position. Where was the crying coming from? They stood and walked over to the window, pushing it open and pausing. Was the sound coming from their doorstep…?

They heard the door open, and a little gasp. “Carey! Carey!” Daniel’s squeaking caught their attention and they stepped out, only to notice the young boy was holding a basket with a wailing baby inside. The bright purple hair caught their attention, as did the flower beside her. “It’s a baby!”

“That she is,” Carey murmured as they took the basket and closed the front door. “Oh, poor dear…” They examined the infant, and found the note tucked under the blankets swaddling her. Their heart sank into their toes when they read it…

_If you’re reading this, please, please take care of little Arden. She deserves a better life than that of… of what was coming for her. Bad men would have made her something she should never be._

_I implore you, whomever you are… love her as her parents love her._


	50. Snow Day

It had rarely snowed in the Mojave Wasteland, or New Vegas, even before the bombs had fallen. Arden had never seen snow, and she was excited as it fell in soft sheets. From her hotel room in Novac she watched, her eyes wide and bright, her face smashed up against the window. Behind her, Boone was fast asleep, unaware of the weather and most certainly unaware of the “dastardly plan” Arden was beginning to hatch…

* * *

He awoke to find Arden absent. Knowing she likely hadn’t gone too far, perhaps just to go get some food, he pushed the blankets off himself and immediately wondered if it would be considered lazy for him to get back in bed. The air was cool for a change, too cool for a desert.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he pulled the door open and stepped out. Almost immediately something cold and wet slammed into his face, sending him reeling backwards more in alarm than anything else. Cheering laughter made him peer over the banister to see Arden, covered in snow, grinning from ear to ear with a snowball in her hand. “GOTCHA!” she giggled, just as she piffed the second one.


	51. Cat Allergy

“Miaow.”

The cat swished its tail as Arden laid in front of it, her eyes big and shiny, face smushed as close as she could get to the fluffy little animal. Boone was watching her, a small smile on his face, as she cooed and attempted to meow back at the cat.

It meowed again and nuzzled her, rubbing the length of its entire body against her face. She giggled and scratched its head, then bounced up and looked at Boone. “Okay I’m done. LESGO!”

* * *

Boone had never wanted to laugh so hard as he did right now. Arden was pouty and grumpy, her face red and itchy, her cheeks puffy and her eyes filled with hatred. “Stop laughing at me,” she hissed.

“No.”

“WHY ARE YOU BEING SO MEAN?!”

“Because this is why you don’t stick your face near random animals,” he teased, the grin unable to be stopped.

“Go fuck yourself, Craig.”

“No thanks. Your job.”


End file.
